


Christmas Day

by Aelle



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Sharkbait Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelle/pseuds/Aelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin makes it through every Christmas day with a combination of alcohol and patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tryintoberegina](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=tryintoberegina).



Christmas day was always hectic.

It started at five in the morning with a drive to the airport to pick up Haruka’s parents. Haruka would nap in the passenger seat—just as he did every year—while Rin drove and tried not to feel resentful of the tiny snores filling the cabin from time to time. It was an arrangement that they worked out years ago, after all; Haruka would get to sleep on the way there and Rin would finally get to rest his eyes on the drive back, but Rin never truly slept. With Haruka’s parents in the car and their hushed voices as they talked with their son about everything from the planned festivities to the stray cat that lived outside of their home in Nagasaki, Rin never got the kind of peaceful rest that Haruka did. It wasn’t Haruka’s fault, he knew; someone had to be awake to make nice with the in-laws and Rin was never particularly good at that. Haruka’s father still couldn’t quite look Rin in the eye, and his mother had a spectacular talent for putting her foot in her mouth, so Rin considered it a fair trade off. He could at least pretend to sleep instead of struggling to make conversation with people who were so obviously still uncomfortable with his relationship with their son.

Rin honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs. Nanase still thought it was a phase despite the fact that they’d been together for over ten years. 

Once they arrived home, Rin would “wake up”—Haruka didn’t buy it for a second, judging by the slightly raised eyebrow and the slight upturn of the left corner of his lips—and make his way to the trunk of the car to unload the Nanase’s luggage. They always offered to help, and Rin always waved them off. He would do anything to avoid conversation and what would inevitably lead to the disaster that was three Christmases ago when, after too many glasses of wine (and a shot of imported spiced rum that Haruka snuck to him while no one was looking), Rin had drunkenly accused Haruka’s parents of trying to steal him away in the night and elope him with some nice Japanese girl who would give them grandbabies. Rin didn’t really regret it; they never brought up words like _matchmaking_ and _therapy_ ever again after that, although it did lead to a rather uncomfortable discussion with Haruka the next day about boundaries and family matters while he nursed the mother of all hangovers.

After Rin brought in the suitcases, Haruka would help his parents unpack while Rin hid in the kitchen and baked a pineapple upside down cake that would be ready two hours too soon. It was his mother’s recipe; she’d made it for Haruka once when they first started dating and his eyes had lit up with the sort of delight that usually only came from the prospect of submerging himself in a large body of water, so Rin had learned to make it himself. It always came out lopsided, but Haruka’s eyes lit up all the same, so Rin committed himself to making it at least once a year. Rin’s mother would usually show up at their home just after Rin put it in the oven, lamenting over the fact that she could have helped him if only he’d waited. Gou and Mikoshiba—Seijuurou, Rin would always have to remind himself—would show up next, usually with a bottle of something sparkly and alcoholic to offer despite the fact that Gou was seven months pregnant and couldn’t touch a single drop of it herself. Rin suspected that it was Seijuurou who persisted in this particular booze-y tradition—age hadn’t taken the edge off of his fun-loving personality, much to Gou’s consternation.

Dinner was usually quiet and civil, if a little tense. Rin’s mother and sister weren’t particularly fond of the Nanases either, and Seijuurou was still caught up in the idea that he had to make the best impression on Mrs. Matsuoka. Every Christmas was like the first for him, and between his schmoozing and the uncomfortable silences and the occasional glare across the dining room table, Rin was always surprised that everyone still somehow managed to get along just long enough to fill their stomachs.

The doorbell would ring at precisely three o’clock. Rin could watch the second hand crawl across the face of the clock in the dining room and the instant that it clicked into place on twelve would coincide with the doorbell announcing Rei and Nagisa’s arrival. Makoto always took a little longer despite the fact that he lived right down the street; it took him a while to wrangle his children—three of the sweetest little conniving devils that Rin ever had the pleasure of meeting—and his wife would shuffle in the door belly first, only the second most pregnant woman in the room. Gou would kill him if he said a word, but there was a notable difference in size between the seven-month pregnant Gou and the ready-to-pop Mei.

Makoto’s kids would scatter across the house in a blur of dirt and noise, and their father—admitting defeat and at the mercy of the boundless energy of his children—would fall gracelessly on the couch and ask Haruka about his day. Always the best friend; as much as Makoto loved his family, he hadn’t let it distance him from Haruka in the least. There were some things that Rin was relieved to know would never change.

They spent the minimal amount of time catching up before the wailing of Makoto’s children would drive them to the inevitable opening of presents. Haruka always appointed himself as the present giver-outer to prevent the living room from becoming ground zero, not that it helped much—gift wrapping and ribbons always littered the floor afterwards, followed quickly by Makoto on his hands and knees giving his best impression of a Dyson vacuum, never one to leave behind a mess that his children helped make.

The adults would always settle in for a glass or two—or seven—of wine while the children would play with their new toys, catching up or just chatting for the sake of conversation. It was Rin’s favorite part of the day; there was no rush, no aggravation—everyone was either too drunk or too relaxed to make trouble, and even Seijuurou managed to stop waiting on Mrs. Matsuoka hand and foot long enough to actually enjoy himself. Nagisa always got inappropriately drunk, but that was more to Rin’s amusement than his irritation.

The day would end amicably and everyone would make their goodbyes, some promising to see each other next year, some the next day. Rin and Haruka would make their way upstairs to their bedroom and slide under the blankets, a tangle of arms and legs before they knew it, but always wary of Haruka’s parents in the next room over. But that was fine; years of repeating the same routine every Christmas had taught them the invaluable skill of being quiet when there was the threat of discovery, so when Haruka’s face disappeared under the covers, Rin would bite his fist and whimper softly to the ceiling. Haruka would be slow and gentle, all too aware of Rin’s vocal limits and careful not to incite anything more than the occasional quiet moan or sigh. On the Christmas nights when Rin was more drunk than not, Haruka would take Rin’s hand in his and hold it until they were done to ease his dizziness. It never really worked, but Rin appreciated the sentiment all the same.

They never went to sleep immediately afterwards. In the privacy of their bedroom they would hold each other and talk in low voices about the day’s events long after midnight, kissing and touching and rubbing away the aches—sometimes emotional as well as physical—until one of them would finally fall asleep mid-sentence and the other would follow.

Christmas day was always hectic and sometimes more stressful than not. The routine was predictable and often exhausting, but it was never completely bad and always worth it, in the end. 


End file.
